He lays his head upon the pavement,
For the first time in his life.
Just off the highway exit
On the corner of 8th and Sunrise.
Mr. Bright Eyes, they called him.
So young and alive,
With a diploma and a dream
To better himself inside.
He had everything he needed
And goals to succeed someday.
He stepped onto the campus.
And was well on his way.
But now he lies here, cold.
Alone.
And with nothing.
He lost it all in an instant
And society watched him in awe.
Tuition’s too high.
And The Government cut his funding.
Couldn’t find a decent job
And As citizens we did nothing.
Except place our faith in the system
To sort him out on its own.
After all, it’s what we paid for,
The shelters, the loans.
The food donated to the helpless
Who lost their place to go.
I saw him one time
Driving down I-5 ,
Shivering in the rain
Dutifully holding a sign.
Praying for miracle
As cars pass him by.
I brought him some coffee
And an umbrella today.
Hoping for a smile
To cross his aging face.
And it did, for an instant.
As tears filled his eyes.
And he told the story
Of Mr. Sunrise